“Contact Warden Tenn,” he grunted.

I sucked in a breath, hoping that was a good sign.

It took a moment to connect, and I spent that time frantically scanning the docking bay for signs of Magnus’ men.

“Warden,” the pilot suddenly said, his voice dragging my attention back to his hulking form. “I’ve got a human female here. Part of some bride program no one told me about. She’s got papers.”

Even though I held my breath and strained my ears, I couldn’t hear the warden’s reply over the beating of my own heart.

“Tasha?” asked the pilot in response. “Blast if I know. I can’t read human. What’s your name?” He went from speaking to the warden to me so quickly that I almost didn’t realize he’d changed his subject of address.

“Cherry! Cherry Dawson. I swear I’m on the list,” I added somewhat helplessly.

He repeated my name back to his comms tablet. He listened for a moment, then growled an acknowledgement of whatever the warden said before sliding the tablet back into his uniform with his impressively prehensile tail.

“Well?” I asked, not bothering to try to keep the anxiety from bleeding into my voice. If he said no now, I was deader than dead. I’d probably have to-

“Still can’t believe they’re sending those boys brides,” the pilot muttered to himself.

And then he said, to me this time, “Get in.”

6SILAR

The sun had not yet risen when my data tab grew warm and then began to shudder in my pocket, indicating an incoming call from Warden Tenn. I, of course, had been up for quite some time. Under the dark sky, lit by an uncountable number of stars and three bright moons, I’d already mucked out the shuldu stalls, freshened their water, and was in the midst of saddling Tarion when the call came in. I swiped my data tab from my pocket with my tail, bringing it close to my ear.

“What is it?” I grunted, keeping my hands busy with the saddle.

“Good. You’re up,” came Warden Tenn’s reply. “I need you at my office today. Leave now, if you want to make it in time.”

“In time for what?” I growled, mentally groaning over how much work time I’d lose out on by going to Warden Tenn’s station. It was nearly half-a-day’s ride from my ranch to get there.

“In time for her arrival.”

“Whose arrival?”

“Your bride’s.”

My tail tightened around my data tab so forcefully that the useless screen, already damaged, became webbed with new cracks.

“Who?” I asked idiotically, knowing exactly whom Warden Tenn meant, but suddenly unable to come up with any sort of sensible reply.

“Your bride,” the warden said rather impatiently. “Cherry Dawson.”

My hands froze on Tarion’s saddle while my heart leaped like a shuldu.

“I thought she was not meant to come for another twenty-two days,” I said unsteadily.

“That was originally the case. But it sounds like she was in a rush to get going. She joined up with a supply delivery shuttle and will be here before the sun is high.”

Too soon.

I wasn’t ready. It would have been comical if it weren’t so catastrophic, just how pathetically unready I was. I’d planned to build a small addition onto the ranch for her to have her own room. Not only had I not gotten to it, but I hadn’t even started building her bed yet!

Ruefully, I thought of the info packet left open on my own bed. It contained a collection of articles and essays on human biology, technology, history, and culture put together by some human-Zabrian liaison named Tasha and then translated into Zabrian before printing.

Having been at this penal outpost since childhood, I’d lost out on most of my chance at an education. All the learning I’d done here was through blood, hunger, and hooves kicking too close to my head. I did not need to read often and the practice did not come easily to me. Even so, I’d done my best to muddle through the dense package of pages, squinting at the words in bleary-eyed exhaustion after each long day’s work. Despite my best efforts, I tended to fall asleep mid-sentence, words like eyelashes and Terratribe and wedding dress bleeding into my dreams.

All that work and I hadn’t even gotten halfway through the blasted thing. In my mounting panic I suddenly could not even recall the information I had read.

If this was a test, I was already failing.

“Can’t Fallon take this one? I’ll claim a different female from the next lot in twenty-two days.”

I felt like a coward and a fool the moment it was out of my mouth. No doubt the warden felt the same, because his voice sliced forcefully out of the data tab’s speakers, crackling with anger.

“No, I’m not giving your bride to Fallon. These females may not be Zabrian but they still deserve respect while they are here, and by the Empire I will make sure they get it.” He heaved a sigh. “I realize that you have not been among females for your entire adult life, Silar, but even so, I expect you to use your head. The human women are not cattle to be traded among you at will. Cherry Dawson has already been told your name, not Fallon’s. She is prepared to marry you. She is coming. Today. So get yourself into that saddle and be here to meet her in time or I swear on my badge that I will wrangle you like a rogue bull and drag you here myself.”

The connection was severed. I stared at my silent, freshly-cracked data tab, Warden Tenn’s words echoing through my head.

She is prepared to marry you.

I slid my data tab into my pocket and put on my hat.

She is coming.

I got into the saddle and took hold of the reins.

Today.

I turned my back on my ranch, faced dawn on the dusty road ahead, and left to collect my bride.

7CHERRY

The first thing I noticed about Zabria Prinar One when I stepped off the supply shuttle was the amount of space. I’d gone straight from a human industrial colony planet, where buildings swallowed every stretch of ground, to Elora Station which was all bright, shiny colour and sound. But things were different in this place. If I angled myself away from the pilot and the shuttle that had brought me here, I could almost pretend I was the only person on this planet. Alien emptiness stretched out for kilometres ahead of me, seemingly without end.

There was silence here. The sort of silence I’d never truly experienced before.

The sort of silence that made me, with no small amount of unease, snap my fingers beside my ears to make sure they were still working.

The second thing I noticed was the dust. As soon as I’d taken a few steps, my boots were somehow already covered with it, dry reddish powder coating the black soles and laces. I grimaced, imagining that most of my clothes would probably end up stained the same muddy red colour after a few years here. But it was better than them being stained red by my own blood. And the more I observed this isolated planet with its tough, scraggly sprouts of yellow grass and the pinkish-gold mountains on the horizon, the more I let myself relax into the thought that Magnus’ men might really be off my trail for good now.

“Cherry Dawson?”

In the quiet, the voice seemed unnaturally deep and loud. Or maybe that really was just his voice, because when I turned towards the man who’d spoken, I found an absolutely colossal male striding towards me through the sunlit dust. He said a quick word to the pilot, who was currently unloading boxes from the shuttle, then continued until he came to a stop before me.

“Warden Tenn?” I asked, my eyes running over his face and remembering Tasha’s description of him. Just like she’d said, he had a pale lavender-coloured hide, long white hair, and a jaw that could cut a bitch.